“Man, too bad you didn’t record that,” Ballard said.
“Uh, actually, I did,” Single said. “I have an app. I thought I should record it in case we needed to look at it again.”
“Did you tell them that?”
“Yeah, they wanted it.”
“You let them take your — Wait, you’re on your phone.”
“I just sent them the video. I wasn’t going to give up my phone.”
“Great, can you send it to me? I just want to look.”
“Sure. Is everything else okay? I mean, the guys that came here were asking a lot of questions about you.”
“As far as I know, everything’s good. It was clean. But I’m still working. I mean, I’m supposed to be riding a desk until the report comes out.”
“Then I should let you go.”
“Let’s talk tomorrow, okay? I think things will slow down then.”
“Sure. Be safe.”
“You too.”
Ballard disconnected. She was relieved to learn there was a video record of at least part of the event that was under investigation. She knew that whatever Single had captured would support the story she had told FID. More than that, she was happy that Single had called.
A smile played on her face in the darkness of the car as she drove.
33
Ballard was delayed in getting to Bosch’s house because she went by the station to check out one of the drug unit’s undercover cars, grab a rover, and dummy up a couple of prop files. After grabbing the keys to a Mustang labeled as a buy car with audio/video capture, she headed into the back lot to look for the vehicle. She encountered Lieutenant Rivera standing at the open trunk of his personal car. It looked like he was just coming in to work. Guessing that Sanderson and the FID team would not be throwing a wide net in their investigation of Bonner, Ballard decided to go at Rivera herself.
She walked directly to him as he was getting his gun out of lockbox.
“Ballard, thought you were off tonight,” he said.
“I am but I’m working a case for dayside,” she said. “I need to ask you something, L-T.”
“Shoot.”
“Last night I asked you about Christopher Bonner. You called him after that, didn’t you?”
Rivera bought time by making a show of holstering his weapon and then closing the trunk.
“Uh, I might have,” he said. “Why?”
Ballard guessed that Rivera had probably slept through the day and didn’t know what had happened.
“Because he broke into my apartment and tried to kill me today,” she said.
“What!” Rivera exclaimed.
“Somehow he knew I was onto him. So, thanks, L-T. I hope it wasn’t you who gave him my address.”
“Wait a minute, Ballard. I did no such thing. All I did was pass on that somebody asked about him — like anybody would with a friend. You didn’t tell me you were investigating him. You said his name came up in your case. That’s it and that’s all I told him. He broke in? Jesus, I had no — ”
“He’s dead.”
“Dead?”
“Yeah, and you should expect a visit from FID.”
Ballard walked away and left him there. It felt good to make the link, but she knew it didn’t fill in all the blanks. She also believed her throwing FID at Rivera would be an empty threat. She did not expect Sanderson to take his investigation much further than he had already.
It took her five minutes to find the UC car in the vast parking lot. She then had to gas it up at the department pump across the street from the station on Wilcox. Finally, she was off and headed toward the hills and Harry Bosch’s house.
It was another hour before she pulled to a stop in front of Dennis Hoyle’s home, with Bosch sitting next to her and fully briefed on her plan.
“Here we go,” Ballard said.
They got out and approached the house. There was a light on over the front door but most of the windows were dark. Ballard pushed a doorbell and knocked. She looked around for a home security camera but did not see one.
After another round of knocking and doorbell ringing, Hoyle finally answered. He was wearing gym pants and a long-sleeved T-shirt with the silhouette of a surfer on it. He held a cell phone in his hand.
“You two,” he said. “What the hell is this? It’s almost midnight.” There was a surprised look on his face but Ballard had no way of discerning whether it was surprised by the late night visit or the fact that Ballard was alive.
“We know it’s late, Dr. Hoyle,” Ballard said. “But we thought you wouldn’t want this to happen in the middle of the day with the neighbors watching.”